


but those nights...

by tryitout



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Alive!Tadashi, Breezing over the fix-it, F/M, Gen, Hiro is a Little Shit, Hot Hamada Bros, Matchmaking Friends, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:38:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryitout/pseuds/tryitout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because it sucks like hell when only one of you remembers in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but those nights...

 

For a brief moment he thinks that the lights in the kitchen make her eyes look a deeper, richer shade of chocolate, then she’s grabbing two fistfuls of his sweater and jerking him towards her. When her mouth reaches up to cover his, his mind shuts down. Suddenly, he’s no longer thinking about anything beyond the simple fact that Gogo Tomago is kissing him so fiercely that his legs might give out from under him. 

Shit _._

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

Her mouth is warm, soft, and slick. She is hypnotic, enrapturing him as if she wrote the bestselling book on _Driving Tadashi Hamada Crazy 101._ His pulse is beating rapidly though his body and his—“ _Focus!”_

He mentally berates himself, trying to ignore the blood roaring though his veins, fueled by an unchecked amount of alcohol and months of (Heck, who’s he trying to convince? It’s been years) longing for the one woman he probably will never have a chance in the world with. He slowly brings his hands up, meaning to ease her off of him, but all that results is his right hand burying itself in her hair, while his left wraps itself around her.

“Fuck, what am I doing?” she groans. It has the effect of being a bucket of ice water on his emotions.

What is she doing?

Gogo Tomago is much more than his long-term college friend and housemate: she’s his teammate from their days of superheroism, Hiro’s surrogate older sister during his time  gone, and his _best friend_. Plus, if anything is a red light, it should be the fact that she’s in a serious relationship with another guy. She isn’t supposed to be here, kissing the life out of him in their apartment’s kitchen after a supposedly relaxing evening of mixed shots and trying to outdo each other with lip syncing to their picks of ‘worst’ songs.

He does think it a point on his part that he makes an attempt to halt the proceedings. His hand still buried in her short locks, he pulls back, trying to meet her eyes with his own. Gogo’s eyes are bursting bright and he’s a hundred percent sure she’ll regret this in the morning, even if he won’t.

“I don’t know, Leiko, _what are you doing?”_

“Shut up, Hamada.” Her throaty whisper driving him nearer to the edge. She kisses him again, coming closer and moving him until his backside hits the edge of the counter. He’d come in to grab a glass of water before going to bed, hoping to put a little space between himself and Gogo’s sudden, though slight, drunken flirtations. She’d followed him to their kitchen, clutching his cell in her hand, accusing him of avoiding any pictures with her, when everything went a little mad. He’d heard her fighting on the phone with James this morning which might explain her being in some sort of emotional rebound, but her reaction now is a bit unusual.

He’s trying hard to keep it together, to stop himself from taking advantage of the situation, but it’s hard to feel like she’s not consenting when she’s a little petite thing simmering with infinite power.

He swallows. “Do you want some tea, Gogo? My Aunt Cass just gave me a sample of some new chamomile she got in the shop.”

She tugs at his bottom lip, a jolt of lust stirs in his groin. “I really hate you sometimes, Hamada.”

“What?” He’s trying to feel offended by her comment, but it’s a bit problematic when her hands are exploring his rear.

“Walking the fuck around like you’re humanity's greatest prize with your face and voice, and being all funny and charming when I’ve been a total ass to you.” Her voice muffles against his neck. When he feels the soft scrape of her teeth on his skin, he can’t keep in the groan that rumbles through his chest. “I mean what the hell am I supposed to do when you’re such a fucking god?”

To say Tadashi is confused, is putting the situation likely. And the exorbitant amounts of alcohol they’ve both consumed definitely isn’t helping the situation right now. Trying to change the mood of the current circumstances, he tries to go for funny and rubs his nose against her in a mocking of an eskimo kiss, only to be decidedly overwhelmed by the scent, feel, and _everything_ that makes up her. “Are you trying to tell me that you like me, Gogo?”

His attempt at lightening the situation falls on itself because now Gogo is leaning into him, her breasts soft against his chest, one hand coming off his backside to reach for the counter behind him. “I’m _saying_ ,” she slurs slightly, “that I really, really hate seeing the women you bring to our breakfast table, knowing you’ve screwed them the night before.” Her voice is strangely laden with emotion and a combo of sake and soju, which he should know is never, ever a good combination. Yet, he still can’t help the small trill of excitement that courses through him. “I hate it,” she blurts. “You and me, that’s such a bad idea when we’re best friends and I’m with James and— _shit_ —my timing sucks.”

Tadashi is just beginning to realize that Gogo, his hardcore don’t-shit-with-me friend, has thought about him, _them_ , really, as something more than their ‘close friends’ status. Before he can say anything though, she’s holding his phone in her hand, her lips a hair’s breadth away from his. “I’ve screwed things up now, I’m sorry.”

Then she’s pressing into him and kissing him once more, her mouth soft and burning, allowing him a glimpse of the desire inside of her, making his body respond instantaneously with a flash of hunger that shocks him in its intensity and want.

He’s not about to make a mistake the second time.

He melds his mouth against hers, kisses her throat, and tastes the rapidly fluttering pulse below her jaw. Her right hand slides underneath his sweater, pulling out his shirt, to scrape along the contours of his stomach, and want fills him, pushing him to go farther, to go faster, and to let her feel exactly what it is she’s doing to him. When she sighs breathily, pressing her hips against his with clear intent, his mouth blindly seeks hers, quickly finding it like a magnet does it’s polar opposite, pushing her against the cabinets to revel in the feel that is all her. He kisses her until they’re both panting and clutching at each other.

_Flash!_

The sudden burst of light from his camera phone brings him back to reality and right on time it seems. Suddenly, the energy brimming in her leaves and she sags against him, his phone dangling precariously from her fingertips.

“Alright, Gogo,” Tadashi tells her as he safely extricates his cell and wraps an around the back of her waist to keep her from stumbling. “It might be time I put you to bed now.” Her head falls against his chest. _What the hell is going on?_ he wonders. She’s always been a pro at drinking him under the table. This early defeat to alcohol is really unlike her. “We’ve both got work tomorrow, remember?” his voice shakes a little as he tries to come down from the lust-filled high. “You’ve got student presentations tomorrow.”

She mutters something in Korean that sounds like a curse on her students, and he tells himself to leave it. His heart is still hammering against his chest, his breath is still short. Despite all the times he’s imagined kissing Gogo Tomago, his mind never quite managed to get even close to the glory of the reality. Feeling as if he’s just run up and down the stairs to his building a hundred times, he places his phone back down on the granite counter, then makes the decision not to bother forcing his housemate to brush her teeth or wash up. It’s probably smartest right now to get a few closed doors between them before he does something incredibly foolish that involves him listening to his body rather than mind.

After a few minutes of struggling to get her into a mobile position (aka picking her up), he gets her into her bedroom, thanking whatever god is out there that they are both dressed for everything that a night of shots and bad music at home entails. The bike shorts and tank top she’s wearing resemble pajamas enough, so he pulls back the covers of her bed, flicks off the lamp on her nightstand, and moves to the door. Even something as simple as looking at her, right now, makes him feel like a voyeur in his own home. “’Night, Gogo. Sleep well.”

He’s already closing the door when she speaks, and as soon as she does, he’s not even giving a thought to the fact he just rushed back to her side without any hesitation. “Mmmm—Tadashi?”

“Yeah?”

She whispers, voice small and rough, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, lingering for a moment before deciding a kiss on her forehead is out of place now. “We’ll talk in the morning. I’ll make sure to make you something strong for that headache you’ll have.”

She doesn’t answer, seemingly gone again, and he tells himself that that is good.

He heads to the bathroom, thoughts wandering all over the place as he cleans his teeth, rubbing his face with cold water to snap himself out of whatever it is that he’s in now. He momentarily considers taking a cold shower, but it’s January, and he’s not really down for catching hypothermia. Minutes later, he’s in his own bedroom, door firmly locked from the temptation that sleeps down the hall, lying in bed, staring out his window, overlooking the city.

 _Huh_ , he thinks, lost somewhere between confusion and hope. _How interesting_ , a voice that sounds distinctly like Honey Lemon’s coos in his mind. He’s always liked Gogo, from the moment he met her in his intro physics course at SFIT to now. And the fact that she has somehow become one of Hiro’s closest confidantes in the time he was gone, and can still manage to look gorgeous during the make-it-or-break-it week of orals in grad school, just made it all the worse. He’s had this ridiculous, silently grow infatuation for her that has started ever since he returned, and that was nearly eight years ago. He’s always been the type of person to go for what he wants, but he’s also a man of integrity. And ever since he came back, when things had finally died down, they’d never both been single and living in the same city at the same time. It’s always so much of “conference this” and “getting my degree at” that he’d resigned himself to the fact that close friends was the best he was ever going to get in his relationship with one elusive Leiko Tanaka. Of course, being Gogo’s friend was a pretty big deal, and back in June when Hiro mentioned that he and Honey had two extra bedrooms in their remodeled apartment, and that Gogo was taking one since the happy couple had no intention of filling the spare rooms with children anytime soon, he’d jumped at the chance to put himself through misery on a day-to-day basis.

Tadashi had been totally, absolutely sure that he could handle being around her. After all, _everyone_ knew all the things Gogo and James were getting up to when they thought no one was watching, they’d been seeing each other exclusively for almost a year and the heat between them seemed to be a norm to the general populace around. And if he did anything to slip up, a hand lingering to long, a wistful kiss to the forehead, he could always blame it on the intimacy of their friendship, of two people who simply knew each other long enough to be able to easily grace their way into the others personal space.  

The fact he’d deluded himself so much though, does not fail to amaze it, because as he’s slowly finding out, he’s in very real danger of waking up one morning and confessing his feelings for her over something as mundane as coffee.

Now, here he lies in his bed, Gogo only one door down the hall, and he can still taste her kiss despite putting extra effort into brushing his teeth tonight. What in the world was she thinking? It’s not the first time they’ve gotten drunk as hell together, but never did they end their nights making out against the counter in the kitchen. Turning over, he presses his face into the pillow, trying to block out his thoughts and go to sleep. The faster he falls asleep, the quicker morning will come and the quicker he will get to Gogo apologizing for making a mistake or, maybe, saying that she did mean— _Get a grip!_ His logic mentally screams at him.

Despite his strong intentions to put his night away, and the ample amount of imported alcohol he downed with Gogo, he still can’t fall asleep. Then again, the whole process of entering deep slumber would likely go more smoothly if he could just stop replaying every touch between him and Gogo tonight. But if tonight is will be nothing more than a one-time thing (which knowing Gogo, it probably all was just a drunken mistake), then isn’t it okay for him to torture himself just a little while longer?

“ _Argh!!!”_ Tadashi rolls over and punches his pillow. Maybe that cold shower isn't such a bad idea after all.


End file.
